I think of the tarot cards, the ones left in the dumbwaiter only for me. The ones Rini knew nothing about.

The Empress, upright: pregnancy; reversed: domestic problems.

The Fool, upright: new beginnings; reversed: poor judgment, naivety.

If they were left by Andi, who said she was trying to warn me, then their intended meaning was clear. And yet I saw what I wanted to see, a promise for the future rather than a glimpse of clarity into the past. I’ve always willfully ignored the signs that disturbed me. I did it with my parents’ marriage. With their tragic death. With Adam. With Ted too?

I remember back to that time before Ted and I got engaged. Our two-year dating anniversary was coming up, and I had a feeling Ted was going to propose. We’d been talking about the future and engagement rings and our favorite time of the year for weddings. Despite my firmly held career ambitions, I suddenly became more desperate for him to propose than a woman approaching her thirties in the 1950s. Aimee and Adam were already married and I knew they’d start having kids. I wanted the same. Adam and I would morph from orphans into a superfamily.

It was easy to ignore the nights Ted stayed out until the morning. Or the unexpected business trips. I was so close to getting what I wanted that I glossed right over those incidents. And in hindsight his odd behavior felt like a blip. Last-minute jitters before a well-planned-out, highly orchestrated proposal. There was nothing to ask about. Nothing to dig up. Until Andi appeared from the hands of fate with a horror story to ruin my life.

AIMEE

I fight the urge to take out my phone and snap a picture of the gray storm clouds cast Martian red from the late-afternoon sun hidden behind them. I want to video the flashes of lightning that divide the sky. To record the thunder that shakes the wooden piles of the dock below us.

This compulsion is not to post on social media, but to capture tangible evidence of the day the past came crashing back into us. Me, Adam, and apparently, Ted. Somehow I knew this was coming, as far back as the drive to Stars Harbor two days ago, but I could’ve never grasped the extent of it.

When Margot took Ted out to the end of the dock to confront him about Andi’s confession, Rini started to follow. Adam stepped up, blocking her.

“They need a minute,” he said.

Rini complied and since then, we’ve been loitering on either side of the dock’s entrance: Rini and her sister on one side whispering, Adam and I on the other.

“Do you think he could have done that?” I ask Adam. “That’s a pretty wild story.”

“Which makes me more inclined to believe it. I don’t know Andi to be a liar.”

“Do you know Ted to be one?” I ask, feeling defensive that Adam would stick up for his ex-mistress over his brother-in-law. Though somehow Adam’s use of “Andi” over “Mira” comforts me. When he adopts the name that Rini used for her sister over the one he gave her when they were lovers, that opens up the space for some objectivity.

“I know Ted is a man who will do anything to protect what’s his. We’ve all heard stories of clients his colleagues have tried to poach,” Adam says.

He’s right. That’s the reason Ted does so well at work. He’s quiet but cutthroat. Calm but merciless. We have heard the stories, but Ted tells them like he’s the victim and then the savior. Now he’s cast as the villain.

Like the rain that seems to be bouncing up at me from the dock below, my whole perception has been turned upside down. Ten years ago, I called Andi the villain. This weekend I understood my part in that same role. And now Ted is stepping into something worse than our petty crimes, into a truly heinous act.

“With Margot too,” I add. “How many times has he gone above and beyond to protect Margot’s feelings from being hurt by even the slightest comment?”

Ted’s personality comes off as a strength in his role as a husband. He’s fiercely loyal to Margot. He always follows through. But how far would he go to protect her?

Adam nods. “And remember, this all happened ten years ago. He was more desperate. If he’d knocked up another girl, Margot would have dumped him in two seconds flat. Goodbye Flynn trust fund, goodbye family connections. And they were so close to getting engaged. He had it in the bag.”

Could he have really gone to these lengths? I watch Ted animatedly explaining to Margot without being able to hear a word. He can barely hold his footing on the floating dock, bucking up and down in the waves, and yet Margot maintains her composure as always. I’ve never been more afraid for her. This is not the time to be calm.

RINI

Ted was the one who had done the unthinkable. I had no idea the extent of the violation Andi suffered. Ted showed no remorse while listening to my sister unburden her pain. We’re never going to get an apology. And even if we did, it wouldn’t be enough. Not for what he did to Andi.

I watch as Ted and Margot ascend the ramp of the floating jetty and stroll toward us. The storm whips their clothes and hair against their bodies.

Andi steps from the lawn to the dock, drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I follow behind her. Ted moves with the confidence of someone who has never lost a match of “he said, she said,” and as they approach I assume he’s persuaded Margot onto his side.

By the time they get within a few feet of me and Andi halfway down the dock, I’m frozen with rage. Ted drops Margot’s hand and ushers her in front of him. Margot moves quickly past Andi and then me, without making eye contact. She doesn’t notice that Ted has stopped inches from my sister. I can barely pick up what he says to her over the howling wind.

“I told you that if you ever contacted me or my wife, it would not end well for you,” he whispers.

Ted moves so quickly that I don’t have a chance to react. He grabs my sister and throws her into the stormy water.

FARAH

As I run through the house, I notice it’s a wreck. In the foyer, I trip over Aimee’s sneaker, laces outstretched and tangled in knots. From the kitchen I hear the fridge beep, its door ajar. A trail of novels drips like tears from the library to the living room.

In the background, I hear a television, Eden and Rick whispering and laughing.

“We need all hands on deck in the backyard,” I yell. No one responds. I take the back stairs two-by-two up to my suite and return before the next flash of lightning.

With supplies in hand, I pause at the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the scene unfolds in slow motion. A bright blue raft drifts across the lawn. It levitates and dances in the crosswinds of the storm. My friends move around the backyard as if in a poorly choreographed ballet. Tiptoeing, running, leaping. The sky flickers with light, brilliant then brooding. It’s so strange, but serene.

When I swing the French doors open, the chaos assaults me. The wind howls. The floating dock has accelerated from rocking to crashing up and down against the water. Thunder booms. The storm feels more urgent. More dangerous. The eye has passed and we’re in the thick of it. Aimee screams. I break into a run.

“What’s going on?” I yell.

Adam and Aimee stand at the edge of the dock, anxiously watching. From the window I couldn’t see Rini and Ted thrashing in the water. They’re fighting the current so they aren’t swept out to sea. Andi rolls on the dock in a puddle of water, coughing.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Ted threw Andi in. Rini charged him, caught him off guard, and they went in together. Andi got away but the two of them won’t let go of each other,” Aimee says.

“Don’t just stand there,” I shout to Adam and Aimee.

“I’m not getting in; I’ve been drinking all day. Shots, beer chasers, and countless bottles of wine,” Adam says.

So has Ted, I remind myself. Despite their size difference, if Rini wanted to kill him, she probably could in these circumstances. But not without killing herself too.

“Of course not. Look for noodles or rafts, any kind of floatation devices. There’s a shed right there.”

Adam sprints in the direction of the house and I turn to Aimee.

“How long until the EMTs arrive?” I ask.

Aimee’s face turns white. “It happened so fast,” she says.

My stomach clenches. Help isn’t on the way yet. I run calculations in my mind. This doesn’t look good. With my emergency room voice, I instruct her to call now.

I jog out onto the dock and Aimee follows with the phone to her ear. Even closer, it’s impossible to see Rini and Ted below the roiling waves.

“The call won’t go through,” Aimee cries. “It’s not ringing. It’s not doing anything.”

“Keep trying. 911 shouldn’t require cellular service.”